Within a Shinigami's Eyes
by Shadowclanwarrior
Summary: The life of a mortician is said to be miserable, a life where there is complete isolation and solitude. Undertaker thought that even with him turning his back on his own kind, he would be happy to just study the humans he used to hunt from afar. But what were to happen if one woman were to look into his eyes and sees the true loneliness he has tried so hard to hide behind a smile?


**Author's Note:**

**Even though we barely know anything about Claudia P, her name is already listed in the Black Butler archives' character list. Not that I am complaining, as it means that her character will become more important later on in the manga, which I can't wait to read and find out more about her!**

**But ever since Undertaker's hair lockets were revealed and Claudia's name was on it, I've had suspicions that they had a romantic relationship somewhere down the line, at least on a one-sided end. Pretty much this one-shot is a prediction of what Claudia and Undertaker's relationship could have been like, and what Claudia was like before she died. Obviously, this is just a theory of mine and I could be completely wrong by what is to come in the manga, but it is still interesting to wonder what could have happened and how Undertaker got to the point he is at now.**

**Anyways, enjoy the one-shot and please review!**

* * *

The life of a mortician is said to be a miserable one, a life where the only company was rotting corpses and to have a never breakable barrier between them and the rest of society. Undertaker had heard that saying said a million times, saw the looks his customers and other members of society had given him just because of his job. Or was it because of his appearance? With his extremely dark clothing, his long, untamed silver hair that hid his eyes, a large scar that ran across his face and that never ceasing grin on his face... He couldn't decide which it was that freaked people out the most, but after all, it wasn't everyday humans get to encounter a shinigami.

A grim reaper, that was what Undertaker was, one who wanted to get away from his kind's ridiculous ways, where he can freely express himself and his undying curiosity towards human life. Undertaker, he always believed, was happy to be a mortician, where he can freely study the humans he met like test subjects and experimentally interact with their living and dead counterparts. Sure, he was alone in his dark, closed in funeral parlor/home, but he had always been alone, even before his retirement of being a grim reaper. He did _not_ need anyone, he did _not_ long for anyone. The large smile he always had proved that.

After getting himself ready for the day, Undertaker was about to go off in his daily routine and lock himself up in his workroom, when he suddenly heard the front door open. Undertaker stopped where he was, standing in the middle of the small hallway as he wondered who could be coming to see him this early in the morning.

"Hello, is anyone here?"

A...woman's voice? That was most unusual.

Undertaker grinned, quietly moving towards the edge of the doorway that lead to front of the parlor. Glancing into the room, making sure he was still hidden, he silently watched to see that his unexpected guest was indeed a woman, a _noblewoman_, and was all alone as well. The noblewoman looked like to be in her late twenties, dressed in an elegant dark purple dress that matched her dark figure perfectly. Her black hair was tied in a tight bun, with some stray hairs sticking out, and her dark eyes glanced around the room as if she was studying it like a scientist would study a test subject.

The woman walked around the parlor for a short moment, continuing to examine it with a slight curious gaze. Undertaker felt his smile grow, amused by the noblewoman's actions, while also curious at the same time. After a moment of watching her, he then decided to reveal himself.

"_He he he_! Now _this_ is an unusual sight..."

Upon hearing his voice, the woman quickly turned to face him. Her eyes grew wide for a second, but then quickly reclaimed their calm gaze.

"...Hello," she said softly. "I apologize for arriving so suddenly, but I have a need to talk to the man in charge of this funeral parlor."

Undertaker laughed.

"It is no trouble. I have that door unlocked for a reason."

His smile grew, keeping his hidden gaze on the woman. What an interesting human...

"If you would please sit down, m'dear," he continued, pointing at the closest coffin that laid in front of his desk, "I will go tell the owner of the parlor that you are here to see him..."

He anxiously waited to see what her reaction would be to the coffins, to see how uneasy she would get to sit on top of a box meant to hold a corpse... The woman looked over at the coffin.

"Thank you. I can assure you this won't take too long."

She calmly sat on the coffin, her posture stiff and elegant as she looked up at Undertaker.

"I assume you have a reason to have these coffins serve as chairs instead of having real ones for your customers, Undertaker," she said, a slight inquisitive tone to her voice. "Most people would call this frightening, to have to sit in a funeral parlor like this."

It took a moment for Undertaker to reply, him staring at the woman intensely.

"...He he, it is true that most people would frown to the setup of my shop. But I find it cheaper and more efficient to use the leftover coffins I make as chairs. It gives them more use."

Sitting behind the only chair he had in the parlor, Undertaker sat at his desk and stared eye to eye with the woman. He placed his fingers together and smiled.

"So tell me, milady, what brings you to my parlor all by your lonesome? Judging by the way you are dressed...you come from nobility, do you not?"

The woman blinked.

"I do."

She cleared her throat.

"My name is Claudia Phantomhive, and I request your assistance for the queen's watchdog."

Undertaker's eyes widened.

"...You're Lord Phantomhive's wife?" he questioned out loud.

The same Lord Phantomhive whose old fashion, simple-minded look at life was so ingrained that it could not allow him to take a joke to save his life? The same lord...who's reputation meant so much to him that he would probably die from a heart attack if he knew where his wife was right now?

Lady Phantomhive nodded her head.

"I am, and because he is...incredibly ill at the moment, I am here on his behalf."

"_Oh_, so the earl is ill?"

Undertaker smirked, resting his chin on top of his fingers.

"Let me guess, the dear lord has overworked himself to the point of over exhaustion, and you, being his loyal wife, took it upon yourself to do your duty to the queen, even with your husband's disapproval. Am I right?"

Lady Phantomhive blinked a couple of times, as if trying to hide the shocked look from her expression. She quickly regained her composure.

"...My husband is a workaholic, yes, and for the first time in months, he is actually able stay at home and spend time with our son and daughter. He has no idea that I am here, and for his own good, I am here to aid him."

"Even though it will cost you his anger?"

Undertaker's grin grew as his hidden eyes locked onto Lady Phantomhive's. Her posture stiffened, her hands clutched tightly to her skirt...

"...My husband will look down on me because of this incident, but it does not matter. I'm already here to gain the information I require."

She studied him for a second.

"Why are you so interested?"

"He he, you can't blame me for being a little curious, milady," Undertaker replied in a sing-song tone of voice. "I assumed the earl would have a wife, but never would I expect her to be this..._rebellious_."

Yes...that seemed to be a good enough adjective to describe her. Rebellious, willing to take matters into her own hands. A woman of strong will, a woman willing to get her delicate hands dirty, it would seem.

A small smile formed on Lady Phantomhive's lips.

"...Rebellious I may be, but I do have my limits."

She studied him for a moment, as if something had distracted her for a second.

"But back to business. According to the letter Queen Victoria had sent, a man by the name of Lucian Dagon was found dead in his home, killed in such a despicable way, and that his much younger wife, Claire Dagon is missing. I was wondering if you had any information about the two if they were involved with something illegal, or better yet, had their bodies prepared for their funerals."

Undertaker gave off a soft, sinister laugh.

"He he he... Ah yes, Mr. Dagon's body was quite a mess! In fact I cleaned him all up yesterday, almost ready to suit him up for his funeral. I haven't heard any word about his wife...but I do have his body if you want to see it."

Lady Phantomhive's eyes glowed with interest, an interest that would not be considered normal for a lady like her to have.

"If you have him in a presentable state," she said, "I would like to see it and see if I can find any clues."

"If you wish, milady. However I must warn you..."

Undertaker's voice grew darker as he spoke, his smile twisting into something that only a madman could hold.

"While I have cleaned him up, he is still very bloody and disfigured. A sight that could bring nightmares to any man's dreams, including your hardened husband's. I do not want to taint your dreams with unimaginable horrors, as a lovely lady such as yourself should not be force to endure."

He waited for her to emotionally respond to his insult, waited for her to cry out and either claim him to be wrong or be offended in some way. But similar to the coffin incident, Lady Phantomhive's expression only changed slightly, in fact, she looked to be experimenting with _his_ reactions just as much as he was with _hers_.

"I expected much, and I'll do what I must."

Lady Phantomhive stood up.

"If you would kindly show me the body, I will see if anything I need is there and then be on my way."

Undertaker blinked a couple of times before he replied.

"Of course," he said with his smile twitching, "but you do realize that I need payment for my services. And unless you pay me the correct amount...well, he he he! Your trip may be in vain."

He got up from his desk and approached her, making sure they stood face to face.

"If you, unlike your husband who has struggled _so_ many times, can give the choicest of laughters then I will help you in any way I can. If not...then it was nice chatting with you!"

He rubbed his hands together and grinned wildly, wondering if dear Lady Phantomhive would be just as frustrated by his request as Lord Phantomhive always was. This human was the most interesting one Undertaker had ever seen, already she had past his expectations and he was enjoying seeing each new reaction she gave. He was _really_ coming to like this human woman, but perhaps...a little bit too much.

Lady Phantomhive was silent for a long moment, her eyes having an intelligent gleam to them as she stared at Undertaker. She was so quiet, so still that Undertaker almost thought she wasn't going to answer.

"...Milady?" he finally asked, breaking the silence between them. "Are you having trouble coming up with a joke to satisfy me? He he he! Just like your husband it would seem, you-"

He cut himself off, as without warning, Lady Phantomhive lifted up her hand to brush back one side of Undertaker's bangs. Undertaker froze, shocked by her actions, one of his eyes totally exposed as Lady Phantomhive stared deeply into his shinigami yellow-green gaze.

"...Just as I thought," Lady Phantomhive said, sounding like she just figured out the answer to a difficult riddle. "You are indeed feeling lonely."

"...Pardon?"

Undertaker had no words to say as Lady Phantomhive smiled.

"I apologize for the sudden gesture, but I'm afraid my inquisitive nature got the better of me. You see, my husband had made many comments on how 'mad' you were and how ludicrous you were with your payment being in jokes and not money. I admit, this strange behavior made me curious to see what kind of man you were, and with this note to from the queen, it gave me the better excuse to meet you and study you for myself."

...Study?

Undertaker kept his intense stare on her as Lady Phantomhive walked towards the middle of the room.

"I had originally guessed that from my husband's descriptions that the reason why you wanted jokes instead of money was because you longed for a moment of companionship and belonging, even if it was only for a few minutes," she explained. "The life of a mortician is an isolated one, it seemed like a likely conclusion. And seeing how unkempt your funeral parlor is, with all the cobwebs and the dim lighting, it would seem that you are the type of person who likes to shut himself in work to distract yourself from your pains and worries."

She turned to face Undertaker.

"Your appearances also adds to my theory," Lady Phantomhive concluded. "You do not seem to take too much effort to your appearance and you smile and laugh a lot, which can be seen as a defense mechanism to disguise how you truly feel. Lastly, your eyes are covered, the windows to the soul. If one can study them correctly, you can always tell what a person is feeling, even when lying. And with you..."

She took a moment to take in great detail of the look in his one seen eye.

"...You are incredibly lonely, but also have a curious mind. Open to new things but have a hard time opening up to many years of repression. In many ways...you are similar to me. A person who is easily misunderstood."

The stiff posture and emotionless mask she had was suddenly gone, and Lady Phantomhive's personality was really starting to shine through. Undertaker could feel himself stare at her, his heart pounding slightly as every word she said hit him hard.

This...she was _no_ ordinary human. Nothing that Undertaker had ever seen! The scientific and intelligent look in her gaze, the small smile she was giving him...it was making it hard for him to think straight.

"I..."

Undertaker struggled to find words. Lady Phantomhive's smile grew gentle.

"It appears that I am right, judging by the shocked and alarmed look in your gaze."

"...He he..."

Staring out soft, but then slowly growing louder, Undertaker laughed as he felt his heart beat loudly within him.

"He he he, uh _he he he_! You are a very sharp woman, Lady Phantomhive! I can see how even the most stand offish of men like Lord Phantomhive could fall for you... Your studies are quite charming."

Lady Phantomhive gave off a small, bittersweet laugh.

"You would be the only one who thinks that. Most tell me that I just need to keep quiet and not think too hard on these things... But I can't help it. When I'm intrigued, it is hard for me to not go after it."

She cleared her throat, her brighten, curious, optimistic attitude once again hidden away as she tried to make herself seem professional.

"But now that my curiosity is settled... May I please see Mr. Dagon's body?"

She once again approached Undertaker, where their eyes met for a long moment. Undertaker smiled, finally able to get a hold of himself.

"...Of course, right this way, milady Phantomhive."

Not even bothering to cover up his eye again, he escorted her deeper within his parlor and towards his workroom. The workroom stunk with the strong stench of death, and while Lady Phantomhive took a moment to get used to the smell, she did not look back. Undertaker smiled, lighting a small candle to illuminate the room as he showed her Dagon's corpse.

It was a horrific sight, a middle aged man stitched up together as his skin already begun to decompose, his face so bloodstained and stitched up that it was hard to tell if it was a man to begin with. Undertaker watched with interest, taking in every single detail of Lady Phantomhive's actions.

Lady Phantomhive's eyes widened at first, as Undertaker assumed she had never seen a corpse like this in her entire life, but quickly regained her composure. Her dark blue eyes grew with a scientific curiosity, looking as if she wanted to do nothing more than to take notes of what she saw.

"I see..." Lady Phantomhive mused. "...His death seemed to be savage, and judging by the damage on his face, one could guess that it had to most likely be a personal offense then just a random attack..."

Undertaker nodded.

"And there is even more damage to his body then just his face. No matter what, his killer wanted him dead."

It took awhile for Lady Phantomhive to reply, for her eyes were still locked onto the corpse.

"...I have seen all that I needed to see. My husband will have great use with this information."

"Even if he wasn't present to see it himself?" Undertaker asked as he and Lady Phantomhive left the workroom.

Lady Phantomhive paused.

"...He may be skeptical at first, but he will know that I am not lying. And even though he will deny it, he will somewhere deep inside him appreciate me helping him."

Trying to keep the sadness out of her eyes, she turned to face Undertaker.

"Thank you for your time, Undertaker. Your help is appreciated."

Reaching inside her purse, she pulled out a few of the Queen's coins and handed them to Undertaker, taking his hand and putting them into it gently. Undertaker blinked, about to reject the money until Lady Phantomhive cut him off.

"I know you said you just wanted me to make you laugh as your payment, but you _do_ need some money to pay your bills. So please, take it."

She closed his hand and began to walk away. Undertaker clutched onto the money tightly.

"...A word of advice, Lady Phantomhive."

Puzzled, Lady Phantomhive stopped in front of the door and looked back at Undertaker, who had a large smile across his face.

"You're getting yourself involved in some _very_ dangerous work, milady. And even if you are part of the family that is always referred to as the 'Aristocrats of Evil,' you are just as vulnerable as any other human."

He walked closer to her with every word he spoke, till he was standing right in front of her. He did not completely understand why, but wanted to stay close to her as he delicately placed his fingers underneath her chin so that she could looked up at him.

"You've only got one soul to lose, Claudia Phantomhive," Undertaker whispered softly as placed his face close to hers. "It would be wise if you took good care of it, as I would hate see you as one of my guests this soon after we met."

The closeness they shared caused Undertaker's body to tense up, him having a strange desire for her to stay close to him so he could study her more. He wanted her to stay more than anything, and it pained him slightly to see such an entertaining, lively human leave his shop. Lady Phantomhive stayed where she was, her outer appearance seemingly too calm. She kept eye contact with Undertaker.

"...I understand the dangers that comes with being a Phantomhive, but this was not a path that I chose. I was engaged to the Phantomhive line ever since I was a child, and even if my main role was to be a wife, I plan to make the most out of the power I have to make a difference."

Gingerly, she moved Undertaker's hand away from her.

"I hope to see you again, Undertaker," Lady Phantomhive said. "And hopefully next time you will learn to keep your bangs back, as I like to see the eyes of the people I talk to."

Giving one last smile, Lady Phantomhive left the shop before Undertaker could react, his mind telling him to stop her while his body refused to act.

Now that she was gone, a dark, gloomy silence filled the parlor again, a cold feeling of solitude coming from the interior of the small building. Undertaker stood where he was for a long moment, staring down at the money Lady Phantomhive gave him. A small chuckle escaped him as he gave a large smile, a sad, longing look forming in his one seen eye.

"He he he...you _really_ don't understand what sort of dangers you are getting yourself into, milady. With an attitude like yours, you are only bound to get yourself killed eventually..."

He brought the money closer to him.

"I imagine this _won't_ be the last time I see you come into my shop, m'dear Claudia. And I look forward to your next visit and the visits after..."


End file.
